


DADT

by clouder (selfinduced)



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-18
Updated: 2007-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfinduced/pseuds/clouder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>porn battle prompt: rough -- one in the series of my first porn battle, where I took every pairing/prompt that I could picture happening in my head as hot and wrote it. Um.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DADT

When he’d asked Sheppard over for a beer and football while he was in town (Daniel was off on some gateless planet looking for the Holy Grail, of all things) he’d expected an informal debrief. Not drinking late and, yegads, talking. Sheppard doesn’t come out and say as such, but Jack knows what it’s like to form a family you face death with on a regular basis and then to have to let them go.

He wonders what strings to pull to at least allow the man regular access to a puddlejumper. Places a hand on Sheppard’s shoulder in sympathy, and squeezes, letting him almost ramble in his strange, non-talkative way about team-dynamics, and the way Ancient tech has a personality that you could miss.

Jack figures he’s doing pretty well at this older-mentor-male-bonding thing, which is why the next four don’t quite register at first.

"Can I blow you?"

Jack splutters his beer all over the table. By the time he’s cleaned up and can speak again, he still doesn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry. I just. Sorry."

Jack's ears are actually burning. He's…done…a lot of inappropriate people in his time. That Faith girl comes to mind. He still doesn't know what she is, or what her business was on Earth. But this one's about as close to making him blush as it's possible to at his age.

He ducks his head, ignores Sheppard and proceeds to get very drunk very fast.

-

Sheppard's mouth is sweet and hot and wistful when Jack kisses him.

“It’s just—I’ve never even. You know. With a guy.”

A ‘guy’. Jesus. This is so wrong. The boy has it bad. Jack can relate, sorta. Not like he sees the appeal in McKay, but, to each his own geeky scientist.

He lets Sheppard climb all over him, dropping to his knees in front of the couch to nuzzle at the front of Jack’s sweats and yeah, this is probably not falling entirely under the definition of altruism, but the boy is so enthusiastic and god, he hasn’t had any of this in too long. He has to stop Sheppard’s messy and highly effective assault on his cock before it puts him out of the running (somehow Jack knows that he’s going to be too sober to carry this through if he lets his dick stop doing the thinking) but by the time he manages the words, the grip on Sheppard’s shoulder slackens as he starts pulsing into his mouth.

Jack laughs breathlessly, bringing Sheppard back up to kiss him almost soothingly, tracing the edge of his ears and slips a inside his jeans, watching his eyes go half-mast as his breath stutters along with his hips.

“I need—“ Sheppard pants against his neck, “I need to,” squeezes convulsively on Jack’s hips, “Can you?”

And, yeah, Jack gets it. He shoves the Major back onto the floor, tackling him, using his legs and forearm to trap him against the carpet, and bites almost hard enough to hurt at the point of his jaw.

Sheppard moans, low and rough, bucking his hips up against Jack’s, “Oh, oh God, yeah.”

Jack smirks back, afterglow-indulgent and a little smug.

He rubs a thigh against Sheppard and it looks like he could probably come from this, but Jack knows he’ll hate himself later for the chafing. He reaches down between them to pull at Sheppard’s jeans and his own sweats, going for both at the same time and getting his hand somehow all up on Sheppard’s cock again instead. He looks up quickly to see Sheppard’s mouth fall open as he thrusts up helplessly and jesusfuck, groaning, hands squeezing at Jack’s ass hard enough to leave marks.

Jack pulls at his hips until they’re kneeling up, jacking Sheppard and watching as he bites his lower lip (full, and with an odd resemblance to Daniel’s and that’s just—) “God, yeah, please,” his eyes are closed, voice dreamlike. “Please, fuck, Rodney,” he moans, and comes all over Jack’s hand.

Jack is breathing rather hard himself, watching the flush on John’s (you gotta try thinking of a guy by his first name after letting him blow you and jacking him off on your living room floor) cheeks. It’s just that it sounds weird, even in Jack’s head.

“John,” he tries it out loud. Sheppard’s eyes fly open and his ears turn red and he scrambles quickly, “Sorry, um.”

“Ah.” Jack stops him with a hand held up, “I’m not asking. Please, for the love of God, don’t tell.”


End file.
